"I can't do this Sam." I breathe.

I fall to my knees. I fall to the ground. I can't... I can't... I should never have taken up this ring. I can't fight any longer. Everything hurts. My throat feels drier than this land. My legs feel as breakable as sticks. My arms feel numb and heavy. The ring... the ring burns my neck. The ring... it's so heavy. It feels like it'll break my neck. 

"Mr. Frodo please. This is where we're headed. Mount Doom, straight into the fire." Sam says.

"I..." I start.

My thoughts drift. I know I'm going to die. I've accepted it. There's no way I can live through this. I'm just a hobbit. How can I fight this? How have I fought this for so long? I'm dead either way. I can't do this. I'm just one little Hobbit. Then I feel something grab me. I look up and I see Sam's face.

"Come on Mr. Frodo, this is for the Shire. Remember the green grass and the water springs?" He asks.

"No... I have forgotten the taste of food and the smell of water." I squeal.

I have forgotten the morning bird's call. I have forgotten the scent of the early morning flowers. I have forgotten what the grass had felt like. I have forgotten everything good in this world. Is it really worth fighting for?

"I can't carry the ring, but I can carry you." Sam lifts me up.